


Eyn Sof

by Rabbit



Category: Umberto Eco - Foucaults Pendulum
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabbit/pseuds/Rabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>immediately after the events of the book, Casaubon offers up the Key to the most pernicious of its Seekers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyn Sof

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adrienne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrienne/gifts).



> This is my favorite book of all time, and I felt... a little odd writing this. But I wanted Casaubon to see his family again (in Midrash, at least), and I wanted Aglie to have a chance to achieve redemption, if he so chose. He's still a long way from it at the end of this-- it seemed important to leave it open, like the book itself-- but. well, who knows? Nonetheless, I hope you like it, and thank you so much for requesting it!

Two days later, they still had not come. Casaubon waited for three. And they still did not come. Maybe they would not, maybe they had forgotten about him, or maybe they had realised... something. Something that would have to be horridly un-diabolical, but it was certainly possible. The contemplation of the pendulum perhaps had shaken one or two of them to the core of their being, bearing it's martyr, more Tipareth than Hod, like the Christ figure, illuminated in their darkness, illuminated _by_ their darkness, Hod a dim memory even at this excellent moment. He had heard of astronauts viewing the Earth from on high and experiencing a profound sense of unity, well-being, enlightenment, and One-ness, peace and perfection. Adam Kadamon staring at his feet and Knowing Himself. Diotallevi would have murmured the Sh'ma under his breath. But anyway. Martyrdom is something else, after all. 

And what was he himself, wondered Casaubon. The martyr was already hung, and all of the light and corrupted matter had already been collected and dispersed over the earth, unless it hadn't. Perhaps the conclusion was bottlenecked in some bureaucratic mess. They-- the They-- could never agree on anything, after all. Ah well, they would come or they would not. But he wished they would, for the game-- the Story-- did not seem over yet. Malkuth was the kingdom and the Earth, and this ought to end-- with Earth. The six of the feet beneath it, anyway. Six, there was Tipareth again, Diotallevi would say. But that didn't matter; that's where Diotallevi was, after all, and it wasn't doing him any good whatever. A soft whimper in the darkness. 

And again-- what was he? 

Soft. The night was soft, and it felt good on his skin, sitting outside on the porch looking at the hill yet again. Three. Three was... Binah. Destruction, Trinity, Oh, there were any number of threes, that was the simplest of all numbers to muck around with, if there were any desire in him left to muck. Three was a kind of completion. His body felt comfortable with three. If this third night ended, and no one had yet come, he could leave, with a clear conscience. Funny, how one's body was still a slave to those superstitions, those innate numerological laws that one took so for granted. it would have made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck with a kind of nervous excitement last week, with terror a few days ago. Now, he smiled. It was a kind of comfort. 

But if nothing else, he knew now that there was, truly, order in the universe. It didn't matter if the conclusions were clear only in hindsight. It wasn't the knowledge itself that mattered, after all, but what to do with it. 

The unfortunate side effect of living past, in fact, being exactly that-- when one Knows, what was one to do with it? And could he, in fact...?

Well, it did not matter, because there was a lighted speck coming up the hill. Some solitary Diogenes with his lantern, trudging slowly towards him-- yes, fixedly, towards him and the house. Now, it could have been someone at the head of a mob, but he felt reasonably certain that there would have been many of them carrying torches, in that case. It was more romantic, and everyone read about mobs with torches. Been done = acceptable. They were not ninjas, they were They. Ninjas... had he and Belbo and Diotallevi worked ninjas into the plan? He couldn't remember. A pity, almost, given the ferocity of the Eastern traditions... 

The lantern was closer now, and it was clearly just one figure. As it came still closer, it was even more clearly Aglie, and that was even less surprising. He was not about to repeat the mistake of Belbo, now. It had taken him less time than Casaubon had supposed to rebuild his authority, unless he had not and he acted now purely as his own agent. It didn't matter terribly, except in how soon they would likely be interrupted. Even if, by some miracle, only Aglie knew where he was, They certainly were keeping tabs on Aglie. Casaubon stood up as he approached. 

"Count." 

"Ah, Casaubon." Immortality aside, he was not a young man, and he took a moment to catch his breath as he climbed onto the porch. "They are looking for you, you know."

"They've found me, obviously." 

"Nonsense," Aglie hung his head and coughed, discreetly, "you're still confusing me with them. I should never have attempted... well, it's all moot now, isn't it? Everyone makes mistakes, and in matters like this, it is always a group, a conclave, that can generate the power needed to harness... but that is all beside the point, I can tell I do not impress you. You, too, are going to tell me that you do not have the Map, aren't you?"

Casaubon inclined his head in assent, "Yes."

"You may wish to rethink that. You know as well as I do, although your friend chose to die for the secret, his death will be utterly in vain if the secret is not passed on, to someone..." He set his lantern on the ground, and it illuminated both of their faces in an eerie, macabre way, "...who can make use of it."

"There is no secret. Belbo was leading you on."

"Oh come now, don't be..." 

"Over a woman." 

Aglie tsked, clicking his tongue, "Now now, young man, you don't expect me to believe that someone as shrewd and as clever as Jacopo Belbo..."

"Count, I don't expect you to believe a thing. What I expect..." He looked back down the hill. It was still beautiful. It brought him back a little of what Aglie was disturbing, just by being here, "...I fully expect you to kill me. Or if you don't, someone else to. Or all of them." He looked back at Aglie, "I have a wife, I have a child. I'm no initiate, decicated to creating or searching for artifical grails. I have the grail, yes. He's at home, in my wife's arms, and I don't expect to ever see him again."

"That's... interesting." Aglie's eyes narrowed, and the pit of Casaubon's stomach fell out. _Oh dear god_ , he thought, _don't let him have misunderstood..._

But the Count's intentness of gaze relaxed, and he sighed like a deflated balloon. like he had in fact removed the cork, finally, and joined the rest of the mortals here in Malkuth. Although that was probably too much to hope for.

"I was afraid of that," he said, "You don't truly understand... what happened in the Nave, as much as anything else. You were really an innocent bystander, as much as anyone in this world is. But you have seen everything now.... everything he left behind. And you really mean to tell me, that you don't know...?" 

"I mean to tell you," Casaubon chose his words very carefully, "nothing at all. And if you don't believe me, you can go to Belbo's office yourself, break into his computer, read everything. Read everything here, if you want. Though I don't think it'll help you."

"No?"

"Exactly. But it's not a question." 

"What isn't?"

"No." 

Aglie stared at him for a long moment. 

"You _are_ clever, my boy. Perhaps too clever for your own good."

"I think that's true. Or maybe it was. Now..." He closed his eyes and opened them again, "Isn't the hill beautiful?"

Aglie looked where he was looking, though what he was looking for Casaubon could not guess. There were things you couldn't explain to some people. He was certain it was not the hill Aglie was looking at, or maybe it was, and he was underestimating him, or something.

"It was... very tragic," said Aglie softly, "what happened to your friend."

"And Lorenza." 

"Yes." 

There was another, very long, though oddly companionable silence. 

"So, are you going to kill me?" 

"No. I am no murderer, Casaubon, whatever you may think of me." 

Casaubon was not inclined to argue the point. 

"And Them?"

"At the moment, they're at bay. But I don't know how long they'll be restrained. Though no, they don't know where you are." 

"Of course. Yet." 

Aglie didn't say anything. Casaubon watched the lantern on the ground blow out, devoid of fuel, and then he began to move away from the house, towards where he had left his car. 

"Where are you going?" Aglie started, taking a couple of steps towards him. 

"I think... home, I think." Casaubon held out his arms, then after a moment, fished in his pocket and pulled out the key to the house. He took a couple of steps back towards Aglie and tossed it back to him. "Here's a Key. The Key, if you want. Or the Key to the Key. Or just a... damn, it doesn't matter, does it? You'll see what you want to, and that's the end of it. But it's yours now, and maybe you can do something with it to keep those vultures happy. Goodbye, Count." 

And he walked off into the darkness of Eyn Sof and out of the Story, for good this time. 

 


End file.
